In The End
by Panda musume
Summary: As if a switch had been flipped and the world suddenly grew quiet just for him, that's what it finally takes for Mihael Keehl to realize that he is a fucking mess./Rated T/


A/N: Oneshot is up!

I half-assed my way through this so if I made any mistakes or made Mello too OOC, feel free to leave a review or PM me about it.

DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN DEATH NOTE

Enjoy~

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In The End

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It's almost instantaneous, but it's painfully slow as well. And as Mihael Keehl doubles over the steering wheel, he feels that this situation is almost comical, without the forty seconds and everything else spinning around his head, but there's fire. There's fire and steel and the scratching of wheels on pavement and Mello can almost laugh at this situation right now if his heart wasn't beating so erratically; _compulsively_. The fear. The anxiety. The strenuous wait for Mother Nature to hit and God's fallen angels fall onto the Earth. It's here. It's coming. It's _finally_ here; and Mello can only muster a painful grunt that pierces him like thousands of blunted needles and even makes him hack up some red here and there.

Thirty seconds.

 _Goddammit Mello_ , he tells himself. _Do something._

He can't do anything. This isn't a revolutionary moment; just another site for Kira's victim's. But there is something in between all of this that is somehow making the situation _work,_ and Mello doesn't know what to label it as, but that something that is between him and a heart attack is _glorious._ Trials of swirling fire and burning crosses and the stakes being set so high is giving his blood the adrenaline rush of a lifetime. Mixed in with terrifying thoughts, a short road down memory lane involving some goggles and cigarette packs, and maybe even some melted chocolate at some point, for another small moment, Mello strays over Wammy's and Near and the last time he'd slept in a warm bed without having to worry about being held at sudden gunpoint. Of course, those thoughts linger a little longer than they are supposed to, but oh well. They'll burn away.

Twenty seconds.

Mello can't hear anything over how fucking loud the background is. Bells, bells, bells— _why bells_ , he wonders. _Why bells—_

He doesn't find the sound particularly unsettling, just ironic, for it to resonate with the fire and the fear and the terrifyingly accurate countdown that's still going down his head like some time bomb.

Glory, glory, hallelujah.

He would hum if he could but his hands are too busy clenching the piece of clothing that is covering his chest, trying to do something before he crashes and everything burns.

 _I deserve this,_ he thinks. It's random, and Mello is surprisingly content with this situation. Oh glory, oh glory—glorious. He's never belonged in society. Not now, not ever. He has a screw loose somewhere in his head, and it's already gearing up to blaze away in angry fumes of fire and titanium and just about anything that is poison to him and the number two rank he was given.

His hands then grip the steering wheel, leather and jazz flaring up for a small moment, and then nothing.

Ten seconds.

It's laughable, and that's what it finally takes for Mello to snap his eyes wide open and stare at nothing. As if a switch had been flipped and the world suddenly grew quiet just for him, _that's_ what it finally takes for Mihael Keehl to realize that he is a fucking mess. A little boy walking around in the middle of nowhere and finding nothing for himself besides his rank and the ugly scars he has. He has demons all over his back and that's enough for him to start smirking insanely at _something_ and burn through whatever is stopping him from swearing at the world and strangling the life out of whatever force that is out there to get him.

Seconds pass, Mello wonders—wonders about where he'll be straying off to. God? Heaven? That might just work— _bullshit._ Heaven probably doesn't have leather or fire or titanium, but he doesn't know that yet (they do have crosses though, he dully notes).

Five seconds.

He'll leave that investigation to Matt, but he doesn't hold that much hope in that thought because he doesn't believe in God—

His thoughts are left at that. All of a sudden, it's as if this moment is made for him when the sirens in his head go off and it's so quiet he can feel the last vibration his chest is making as his pupils dilate and Mello slumps over the steering wheel and is engulfed in flames and bell chimes.

Glory, glory, hallelujah.

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A/N: I don't really know where this came out from, but I got bored and I had the urge to write something.

Critiques are greatly appreciated

Til next story~


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